


Honest as Always

by surlybobbies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 06:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13141383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surlybobbies/pseuds/surlybobbies
Summary: He turns off the engine.  “Get it together, Winchester,” he mumbles to himself, a pitiful pep talk for facing the man he’s been in love with for two years.  He takes a deep breath to steel himself, then grabs the plate of cookies from the passenger seat before getting out of the car.  He walks up the steps to the porch just in time for Cas to open his front door.  He’s wearing a thick dark blue sweater with a large googly-eyed reindeer sewn onto the front.  He probably made it himself.“Dean,” Cas says, and there’s so much surprise and affection in his voice that Dean stumbles on the snow-covered ceramic frog near the top of the stairs.(A deancas Christmas fic)





	Honest as Always

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a day to cheer myself up after a lonely Christmas. I hope it cheers you up too. "Let It Snow" was the inspiration song for this fic, but I don't recommend listening to it as you read because the fic is a softer, more emotional kind of fluff.

It says a lot about how much he thinks of Eileen that Dean is letting her manipulate him like this.

She shoves a plastic-wrapped plate of Christmas cookies into his hands. They look like they’ve been decorated by a five-year-old, but Dean knows that Sam spent hours on them last night. 

“I’d send Sam, but…” Eileen lets herself trail off with a meaningfully exasperated look at Dean. 

After spending hours decorating the cookies, Sam decided he was entitled to a few dozen for himself and consequently ate himself sick. Overindulgence is unlike him, but Eileen’s cookies are amazing. “I don’t know what you put in those damn cookies,” Dean says. He ducks his head so his sister-in-law can wind a scarf around his neck.

When she’s done, she pats Dean on the cheek and winks. “Love.”

Dean rolls his eyes, but presses a kiss to her forehead anyway. “Anything else you want me to take?”

She smiles. “Yes. Take your time; I know he’d like the company for a little bit, even though he insists that he’s fine alone.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says, feigning chagrin, though the concept of spending more than a few minutes with Castiel Novak makes his pulse jump in restlessness. “Check on Sam,” he says, then looks at her stomach, round and just big enough to make him nervous. “And call me if you need anything.”

Now Eileen is the one rolling her eyes. “Shut up and get out,” she says, pushing him toward the door. As she opens it and shoves him outside, she says, “Give Cas a kiss from me,” and shuts the door in his face.

 

Cas’s apartment is only a ten-minute drive away, but the snow falls steadily in the fading light, and Dean’s hands start shaking more and more the closer he gets, making the drive much more difficult than usual.

He pulls into Cas’s driveway and hopes he has a few minutes to gather himself before Cas sees his car. But too soon - Cas must have heard the rumble of the Impala’s engine - the curtains of the front window are being drawn back and Dean can see the confused tilt of Cas’s head through the windowpane.

He turns off the engine. “Get it together, Winchester,” he mumbles to himself, a pep talk before facing the man he’s been in love with for two years. He takes a deep breath to steel himself, then grabs the plate of cookies from the passenger seat before getting out of the car. He walks up the steps to the porch just in time for Cas to open his front door. He’s wearing a thick dark blue sweater with a large googly-eyed reindeer sewn onto the front. He probably made it himself. 

“Dean,” Cas says, and there’s so much surprise and affection in his voice that Dean stumbles on the snow-covered ceramic frog near the top of the stairs. 

“Hey, Cas,” he says, once he’s recovered, “Merry Christmas.” He extends the plate of cookies to Cas. “From Eileen.”

Cas takes them, smiling, then says with a glint in his eye, “Is the ‘Merry Christmas’ from Eileen, too?”

He’s always throwing Dean for a loop. “From her - from me, us - all three of us - well, four if you count her stomach - I mean the baby - the - ”

Cas stops his rambling with a short laugh. “I understand. Thank you, Dean.” He looks at the cookies. “This is...far too many for just me.” He steps back from his doorway. “Would you like to come in and help me with them?”

“Can’t say no to her cookies,” Dean says, thankful Cas stopped his word vomit before it got too embarrassing. He follows Cas through to the kitchen, ignoring the sprig of mistletoe hanging in the foyer, despite being a little disappointed that Cas didn’t insist on following through with the tradition.

“The snow’s really coming down out there,” Cas observes once Dean has seated himself at the dining table. He sets the plate of cookies in front of Dean. “Thank you for coming out here to see me despite it.”

“I’m always glad to come see you,” Dean says, and the honesty surprises even himself. He takes a cookie to hide the redness in his cheeks. “Plus,” he adds hastily, “Eileen would have killed me if I didn’t.”

Cas smiles. “I don’t doubt it. Would you like a beer?”

“Beer and cookies - my favorite combination.”

“A man after my own heart,” Cas says as he turns toward the fridge. 

Dean says nothing. He knows Cas has dated both men and women in the past, but it’s too much to hope that Dean could be someone that Cas would seriously consider as a partner.

They drink their beers in companionable silence, though Cas eventually asks after Eileen and Sam as he peels the label off his beer absentmindedly.

“They’re good,” Dean says, “Sam’s in bed, though; ate too many cookies last night. And Eileen’s been complaining about the baby keeping her up at night with the kicking and crap.”

Cas’s smile is soft. He stopped eating after two cookies, but there are crumbs on his reindeer sweater. “They’re good for each other.”

Dean thinks about Sam and Eileen - the way Eileen sits with Sam when he’s feeling poorly and the way Sam rubs her back when it begins to ache with the weight of the baby. “Yeah,” he says confidently, “They are.”

“I’m glad they met each other.”

“Because you wouldn’t have met me?” Dean’s more or less joking, but he knows when Cas hides his smile behind his bottle what he’s about to say.

“I’m glad because they’re good for each other, and yes, also because I wouldn’t have met you otherwise.”

“You don’t think we would have met some other way?”

Cas seems to think about it. “Maybe we would have. Maybe I would have needed my car fixed. Or maybe you would have met a deaf woman and taken my class to impress her with your ASL skills.” He tips his bottle toward Dean, waiting for him to pick up his beer. “Either way, we would have found our way to each other - somehow.”

It’s sentimental and ridiculous and absolutely terrifying in its sincerity, but that’s just the way Cas is. Cas is always going to say things like this because he is sincere and wonderful and doesn’t think societal norms should get in the way of expressing gratitude and love. It’s Cas.

It’s the way he is, and nothing more.

They toast, and Dean downs the rest of his bottle in two quick swallows. He doesn’t think he can sit here any longer while Cas talks like this, because while all of the things he says are genuine and heartfelt and kind, they’re still not anything close to what Dean really wants from him - and if he could trust anyone to be honest about his feelings, it would be Cas. If Cas hasn’t said anything by now, it’s never going to happen.

Dean shouldn’t have come. He puts his bottle down and stands up.

Cas looks surprised. “So soon?” he asks. His voice is small, and yeah, Dean really shouldn’t have come.

“I should really check on Sam.”

“Of course.” Cas puts his own bottle down and gestures to the foyer. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

They pass the mistletoe again, and Dean has to press his lips together to keep from sighing. 

Cas opens the door. 

“Oh.”

They stare out into the front yard. The snowfall has gotten heavier without their noticing. Dean can only barely make out the houses across the street.

“You - you can’t go out into this,” Cas says, looking worried. “Please don’t.”

Dean rubs a hand over the bottom of his face. “Damn.”

“We can call Sam and Eileen if it bothers you,” Cas says, and he’s shutting the door. “But I can’t let you drive back.”

“You can just say you want company for Christmas,” Dean says lightly, even though he feels like burying himself in the snow outside rather than spend another minute with a man who doesn’t love him back.

“The company is a plus,” Cas says thoughtfully, as he leads the way to his living room, where a large fire keeps the room nice and warm. “But the biggest plus is not having to hear that you’ve collided with another car.” 

Dean sits himself on the carpet in front of the fire. He hears Cas walking around behind him but he doesn’t turn to look because he could very easily get lost in the illusion of domesticity - Cas making him a drink and Dean lounging in front of their shared fireplace waiting for his husband to join him for some Christmas cheer. 

He hears Cas’s voice behind him, probably on a video call with Eileen. “Hi, Eileen… Merry Christmas to you too. Thank you for the cookies; Dean and I enjoyed them…”

It’s difficult for Dean not to imagine Cas’s “Dean and I” as an actual concept rather than just a statement of fact - “Dean and I” as if they were an item together rather than just two men who ate some cookies together. Despite himself, he turns to watch. Cas is in the kitchen, looking down at the tablet propped up on the counter. Cas's hands move sinuously as he speaks, and he looks up with a smile at Dean, speaking louder so Dean can hear him.

“Yes, I told him that too. I’ll keep him here even if I need to lock him in the bathroom. I don’t anticipate having to do so, but I’ll do it if I need to." He grins at Dean, then laughs at something Eileen signs. "I'll leave the cookies with him in case he tries that. ...Tomorrow? That’s kind of you; I would love to. ...Great. Please tell Sam I said hi and that I hope he feels better. ...Merry Christmas. See you soon.”

Cas ends the call, and Dean feels exposed, caught staring. He faces the fire again and bites his lip when he hears Cas approaching.

“Dean?” There’s a hand on his shoulder, then Cas joins him next to the fire. He doesn’t move the hand. “Are you feeling well? You’ve been quiet.”

Dean tries valiantly to smile. “Yeah, Cas - just stuffed.”

“Eileen’s cookies are dangerous,” Cas agrees. He removes his warm hand from Dean’s shoulder, and Dean has to close his eyes for a second to stop himself from protesting.

“What were you two talking about?”

Cas smiles. “Didn't you hear? I spoke out loud for your benefit, you know. She told me not to let you drive back until the snow lets up; I really will lock you in the bathroom. Sam's still in bed, by the way.” He pulls at a stray thread from his carpet. “Eileen also invited me to have breakfast with all of you tomorrow.”

Dean struggles not to think of Cas seated next to him at Sam and Eileen’s dining table and fails miserably. Cas in his stupid reindeer sweater and jeans, asking Dean to pass the pancakes on Christmas morning. Dean sitting next to him like they’re a couple, an easy addition to Sam and Eileen’s family. “Sounds great, Cas. Her pancakes are killer.”

Cas leans forward to grab the fire poker. “I’m looking forward to it,” he says, sincere as always, as he pokes at the flames. When he leans back, he’s much closer than before. 

Dean leans into him because it’s Christmas Eve, and there’s nothing more tiring than pretending not to be in love with the person you’re sitting with in front of a fireplace.

“Would you like another beer?”

“Nah,” Dean says, wincing, “I gotta drive home eventually.”

“Are you so eager to leave?” Cas says lightly. “You could just spend the night, after all - we could head over together tomorrow.”

It’s too much. Spending the night on Cas’s couch, watching his fireplace, surrounded by Cas’s smell and the soft glow of the small Christmas tree in the corner… and then going to his brother’s home together, like they’re actually _together_ \- just the thought is too much. “That’s - I can’t, Cas.”

There’s just the touch of a frown on Cas’s face. “Why not? There’s no sign of the snow stopping anytime soon, and it’s only going to get darker. I promised Eileen I wouldn’t let you leave before it lets up.”

“It’s just - it’s too much, Cas.”

“What is? My hospitality?”

Dean lets his chin fall to his chest. “No,” he says to his lap, but he falls short of anything else. He knows he should explain himself - he can almost hear the gears in Cas’s head working overtime - but he’s not Cas; he can’t put his feelings into words, not when those feelings are this huge, this overwhelming. 

“Do you…” There’s a large furrow between Cas’s eyebrows, and he seems to be, for the first time since Dean’s met him, having trouble saying what’s on his mind. “Do you not want to spend time with me?” His voice cracks slightly on the last word, and Dean turns his head quickly to see a look of genuine distress on Cas’s face.

“Cas - geez. No.” He leans into Cas even more, to assure him, but Cas straightens, watching Dean with apprehension.

“Then what?”

There’s so much pained confusion on Cas’s face. Dean closes his eyes, finding himself faced with a choice: let Cas think Dean doesn’t care for him, or tell Cas that he does care - that he cares too much. There’s really no choice in the end; there is nothing he wouldn’t do to keep Cas from hurting.

“Just tell me if I am overstepping my boundaries, Dean; I promise I won’t be offended.” The minute, barely-there trembling of Cas’s lips belies his words, however.

Dean shakes his head. “Cas, it’s not like that.” He places a hand on Cas’s, where it’s clenched into a fist on his lap. If possible, this makes Cas’s expression even more pained. 

“Dean” is all he says, before hanging his head.

“Everything between you and me is… it’s good, okay? I shouldn’t have said that it was too much. That’s not - that’s not right.” He takes a deep breath then says, “I should have said that it wasn’t enough.”

Cas covers his eyes with a hand, but when he speaks, his voice is steady. “I don’t - do you mean that I haven’t been a good enough friend? What is our friendship lacking?”

“Nothing, Cas,” Dean says instantly. “Nothing. It’s just - friendship is not… it’s not enough for me.”

This makes Cas finally look at Dean, confusion still marring his features. “Friendship… is not enough.”

“Yeah. Pretty much.” Dean takes his hand away, already resigned to a Christmas season spent mourning the loss of his friendship with Cas, but Cas’s hand shoots out to grab his wrist.

“What would make it enough?”

“What?”

Cas leans in, his eyes wide and pleading. “What is enough for you?”

Dean closes his eyes in mortification. “Fuck, man, don’t give me anything you don’t want to just to keep me around.”

“I love you. Is that enough?”

“Cas, I love you too, but - “

“No - I am _in love_ with you.”

Dean draws back. “Sorry?”

Cas’s hand tightens around Dean’s wrist. “You heard me. I’m in love with you. Is that enough - will it make you stay?”

“This better not be some fucked up way of keeping me off the road, man,” Dean says, but he knows better than to doubt Cas’s sincerity. He presses his free hand to his mouth, which has started trembling.

Cas pulls Dean’s hand away from his mouth. “Can’t it go both ways? I love you, but I would also like to keep you safe.” He presses a kiss to Dean’s knuckles, then raises wide blue eyes to Dean’s. “Is this okay with you?” he asks.

Dean tries to smile, but with tears in his eyes, it’s less than convincing. He leans forward to rest his forehead on Cas’s shoulder instead. “This is more than okay, Cas.” 

Cas’s hands, when they come up to clutch Dean’s back, are hesitant. “I’m sorry I never told you,” he says against Dean’s ear.

No words seem to want to come out of Dean’s mouth. He just shakes his head and clutches Cas all the tighter.

“I was too scared of losing you as a friend,” Cas continues, his voice tremulous. “I would have hidden my feelings forever if it meant you would stay in my life.”

Dean is certain that Cas can feel the tears on his collar, but he’s also certain that Cas doesn’t care. “I love you,” he says.

He can hear the smile in Cas’s voice when he says, “ _Now_ will you stay?”

 _Forever, if you’ll have me._ But Dean doesn’t say that. He just draws back and grins as charmingly as he can with a red nose. “Only if you have beer and cookies.”

Cas’s eyes are adoring. “A man after my own heart.” 

Dean stays the night.

 

The next morning, Dean rings Sam’s doorbell hand-in-hand with Cas. Eileen doesn’t even look surprised. 

“Merry Christmas,” she says, leaning forward to kiss both of them on the cheek.

Cas hands back her plate, which took twice as long to wash and dry that morning because Dean kept distracting him with giddy kisses. “The cookies were delicious, Eileen, thank you.”

Sam comes into view, chewing on another cookie. “Hey, guys,” he says. He raises his eyebrows at their joined hands, then curls an arm around Eileen’s shoulders, looking at her in adoration. “You’re a genius, you know that?”

Dean tries to scowl, but he can’t when Cas is holding his hand in front of their family. “You weren’t sick, were you?”

“Sick of decorating cookies, maybe,” Sam says shrugging. He and Eileen step back so they can come in. “I don’t think you’ll be complaining, though.”

Dean turns to Eileen as he helps Cas unwrap his scarf. “Don’t ever let him ice your cookies again; they looked horrible.”

“He’ll have help next year,” Eileen says, patting her stomach. 

“Let the kid handle it all himself; he’ll do a better job than Rapunzel.”

Sam just keeps smiling. “He probably will.”

Then suddenly all four of them are standing in the foyer smiling at each other. 

“By the way,” Cas says, shuffling awkwardly on his feet. “Dean and I - “

Eileen rolls her eyes. “Send us the wedding invitation,” she says, then walks into the dining room. 

Sam shrugs and follows his wife.

They seat themselves at the dining table, and Eileen brings in the pancakes while Sam pours them all coffee. 

“Dean, will you pass the pancakes?” Cas says, placing a hand on Dean’s knee.

“I charge for that service,” Dean says, offering his cheek to Cas for a kiss.

“Are you going to stop being gross at the table?” Eileen asks dryly, and she passes the pancakes to Cas herself.

Dean makes a face at her, but then Cas squeezes his knee. The fondness in his face is overwhelming. “Probably not,” Cas says, honest as always.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic happened very suddenly and I wanted to publish it before Christmas day ended... hopefully it wasn't too rough. Merry Christmas!
> 
> You can find a rebloggable version of this this and my other fics on my tumblr, tagged [kc fic](http://surlybobbies.tumblr.com/tagged/kc+fic).


End file.
